


The Little Advisor

by Aussie_Lass



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Clingy Erestor, Elrond Knows What's Up, Lindir as Erestor's Daddy, M/M, My Erestors always seem a bit Naughty, Very Patient Glorfindel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aussie_Lass/pseuds/Aussie_Lass
Summary: Erestor the elfling is a troublemaker.





	The Little Advisor

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Flightless Pegasus.
> 
> I wrote this for the Elfling challenge between Haldir Lovers and Lord of the Rings All Slash. I wrote it for Haldir Lovers to start with, but, it turned from het to slash! So it ended up written for Lord of the Rings All Slash.

"Erestor!" 

The loud shout echoed down the hallway, and it was not the sweet, melodic tone most associated with the minstrel Lindir's voice. It was a specially reserved rumble of displeasure, signaling to the rest of the house that his young son had spilled ink on the rug or let the cat out of their quarters or knocked over a vase or any one of the million things that got the lad in trouble.

It so happened that this morning, Lord Glorfindel had slept in. Normally, he only heard of the boy's transgressions second-hand in the recently built recreational room many gathered in at night. Today, he turned the corner of the hallway just in time to have an elfling skitter down the hall and run smack into his leg.

The elfling bounced backwards onto his rump, as most elflings often do when they run into something hard with enough force. Lord Glorfindel remained standing, and simply stopped and looked down as the elfling gulped and looked up and up and up at the full height of the legendary hero.

"There you are! Come back here!" Lindir angrily marched toward them. The elfling must have decided that the tall warrior was less intimidating than his irate father, and he scrambled around behind Glorfindel, peering around at his parent. He was young, not more than eleven or twelve, and so he barely came up to Glorfindel's knee. "Pardon me, Lord Glorfindel," apologized Lindir as he made a grab for his son. The little one sidestepped and managed to get around to the other side of Glorfindel. "You little... your punishment will be threefold when I catch you!" 

"But I did not mean to make a mess, Ada! I thought the bowl was empty!" 

"You should not have pulled it down in the first place!" 

"Gentlefolk, please, let us solve this civilly." Glorfindel was getting dizzy watching the pair run circles around him, Lindir lunging while the little one dodged. He simply reached down and settled one  
hand on the elfling's shoulder. The elfling froze immediately. Lindir, satisfied that his son was caught by someone stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest. "What did he do?" asked Glorfindel of Lindir.

Lindir rolled his eyes. "What has he not done?" 

"What did he do today?" 

"There was a bowl on the counter containing dried flowers. My wife and daughter had plans today to make potpourri satchels. Little Erestor," said Lindir with a scowl, "decided he wanted the bowl for something, so he tried to pull it off of the counter. It was too high for him to see, and too heavy for him, so it came crashing down. Thankfully, he moved away before the bowl could hit the floor, and it did not break, but it scattered a mess all over the floor. There was still water in the bottom, and now the flowers are unusable until they dry again." 

"Is that true?" asked Glorfindel. 

The elfling scrunched up his face and nodded. "I said I would pick it up, but gwathey would not let me! She told me I was stupid and she never wanted a stupid brother, so I ran away." 

Glorfindel glanced at Lindir, who confirmed this with a shrug. "His sister is at an age where... she is old enough and would be happier if she were married," he reasoned. "My wife is not yet ready to let her "little girl' go, so..." Lindir let out a hidden, muffled sigh. "Having two children in the same household is difficult, even if one is an adult." 

"I can understand that," agreed Glorfindel. "I would suggest, if..." Glorfindel looked down at the lad. "What is your name?" 

"Erestor," answered the elfling cautiously.

"If Erestor is prone to grabbing things off of shelves, perhaps items he should not be grabbing should be placed up high enough that they are out of reach." 

"I am not prone to grabbing!" 

"Hush," scolded Glorfindel gently. "I am not prone to spanking, but one more outburst and I might be." 

Erestor pressed his lips together tightly and looked humbly to the floor.

"Lord Glorfindel might not be prone to it, but when someone deserves one they get one in my book." Lindir took the opportunity to grab hold of Erestor by one hand, which he lifted up so that Erestor had to stretch up onto his tiptoes. "Let us stop wasting Lord Glorfindel's time -- you are only delaying your punishment." Lindir began to march Erestor unwillingly down the hallway. The child twisted and squirmed until he broke free.

Immediately he ran back to Glorfindel. When his father approached, Erestor wrapped himself around the Elven-lord's leg and clung tightly. Glorfindel tried not to look too amused. Now that he had had a little time to think, he realized it was not a holiday and that a child, even this young, running about at this time of day was unusual. "Does Erestor not attend school yet?" 

"He used to," remarked Lindir as he leaned against the wall in defeat. "The teachers asked he be removed. He mind is too advanced for his peers, and he did not do well socially in any of the older groups." 

"Mmmmhmm, I see." Glorfindel rubbed his jaw. "I knew an elfling like that once. Not many friends?" 

"No, sir," agreed Lindir.

"Just a few imaginary ones?" 

Lindir nodded.

"Likes to read?" 

"Everything he can -- and a few things he should not." 

Glorfindel looked down at the elfling. His face was still hidden, arms and legs still twines around Glorfindel's leg. Erestor had become tired of standing, so he was sitting on Glorfindel's boot. "Let me take him with me for the day, and let us see what we can do." 

Lindir looked ready to argue, but the offer was too tempting. "Alright. He is yours for the day. Enjoy -- and do not say I did not warn you, m'lord." Lindir turned and walked away, leaving Glorfindel in the hallway with an elfling still clinging to his leg.

"You can let go now," said Glorfindel.

The elfling did not budge.

Glorfindel gave his leg a little shake. "Your father has gone, and I am needed in the armory. If you are coming along, I would suggest you stand up." 

Still, Erestor did not move. "If I stand up, Ada will come back and get me. I know this is a trick." 

"It is not a trick. Your Ada left you here, with me in charge. Now, please stand up." 

"No." 

"Suit yourself." Glorfindel walked down the hallway. It was a little harder than he thought it would be. Elflings, it turned out, were heavier than they looked. He reached the stairs and looked down at his parasitic new friend. "You really need to get off of my leg now. If I lose my balance and take a tumble I might hurt you." 

"Who cares? No one loves me anyhow." 

With Glorfindel's limited dealings with children, it was the sort of response that tugged at his heartstrings just enough to make him feel so bad he did not pressure Erestor any further. "Alright. Just… hold on, then..." It took a little extra time, but Glorfindel managed to sidestep his way to the first floor. He was very happy he woke up late, because it meant the hallway was nearly empty and no one stopped to gawk or laugh. It would have hurt the elfling more than his own feelings, Glorfindel thought to himself.

From the first floor they ventured outside and across the courtyard until they reached a large shed where the weapons were kept. A delivery had arrived a day earlier from Lindon, and there were arrows to be counted and bundled and swords to be inventoried. As Imladris grew, so too did its military. 

Glorfindel completed the task as quickly as he could. Between waking up late and the elfling incident, he had little time before the afternoon council meeting. He considered skipping lunch, but found a few pieces of lembas inside a drawer of his desk in the armory. One he set aside for himself; the other he held down toward the elfling. "Are you hungry?" 

Erestor, face still pressed against Glorfindel's leg, shook his head.

"Are you sure?" 

Glorfindel set the lembas, still wrapped in its protective mallorn leaf, on the ground near his foot. He set again to counting arrows, and somewhere after thirty-six and before forty-two, felt the grasp of one little arm loosen, and the soft munching sounds from under the desk.

Despite rushing through the weapons check, Glorfindel was the last one to make it back into the house and to the council chambers. All small talk ceased when he came in, one leg hindered by a curious growth that looked precisely like a clinging elfling.

Elrond eyed up the elfling that was still attached to his seneschal's leg. "Does that one belong to you?" he asked. The lord of the valley was as yet unfamiliar with all of the residents, and never made assumptions.

"At the moment," replied Glorfindel, who was finding it easier and easier to move around with one leg hindered. "Lindir's son," explained Glorfindel. "He has been quiet all day and since we are not in a closed meeting I did not think it was a problem." 

"I see." Elrond looked down and smirked when the youngster buried his head against Glorfindel's pants leg. "As long as he is quiet," said Elrond, more to the elfling than to the elf. Erestor peeked up for a moment before turning his head away and pressing his cheek against Glorfindel's leg.

The majority of the meeting was a lot of updates and things rather monotonous to most of those in attendance. Before adjourning, there was one piece of business left to attend to. "I would like to have someone suggest a suitable name for the recently built hall," said Elrond. "It should be something inviting. A name that is memorable and fitting for it." 

One of the counselors raised her hand and said, "We could call it The Hall of King Gil-Galad." 

Elrond nodded. "It would be a honorable nod toward our benefactor," he agreed. "Are there any other suggestions?" 

"King Fingon Memorial Hall?" The elf suggesting this idea shrugged. "Or something like that." 

More ideas were put forth, but none of them seemed to appease Lord Elrond. When the conversation lulled, a voice spoke up from the vicinity of Glorfindel's right knee.

"How about the Hall of Fire?" 

Everyone looked down at the elfling, who had been quiet until this point. "Fires are warm, and there is always a fire burning in the hall. I like to sit by the fire and watch it while people tell stories and my Ada plays his harp." 

There was some polite laughter, and Erestor buried his head again in embarrassment. Lord Elrond shushed the counselors with a motion of his hand and said, "I think that idea is a very good one. In fact, I like it so much, I am not even going to put it to a vote. The Hall of Fire -- I shall commission someone to carve a sign for it this evening. Good job, little one." 

Erestor turned his head, his mouth twitching. He nearly looked like he might thank Lord Elrond for the praise, but instead answered with, "I am NOT little." 

This brought forth the laughter again, until Elrond shook his head with a smile and adjourned the meeting. "Glorfindel, I am going to the sign maker, who just happens to be located next to the confectionary. Perhaps your li--- new friend would like to join me?" 

"I doubt that, my lord, he--" Glorfindel paused as the elfling detangled himself from around his leg, stood up, and happily skipped over to Elrond's chair. "Traitor," mumbled Glorfindel.

"Going by the candy shop is funner than listening to you count arrows," explained Erestor to Glorfindel as he took hold of Lord Elrond's offered hand.

"More fun," corrected Lord Elrond.

"Yes, sir," agreed Erestor as they headed out of the council chambers.

\- - -

"And it still is," Erestor informed everyone sitting in the Hall of Fire listening to Glorfindel's tale. Those present laughed, especially the hobbits. "Though, now I have a sweet tooth for both candy AND Glorfindel, so I gladly listen to him counting arrows if he offers me a trip to the confectionary afterwards." 

"The confectionary?" Glorfindel allowed his eyebrows to rise slightly. "It has been a long time since we have gone to the confectionary after counting arrows." 

"Well, would it hurt for you to offer now and then?" asked Erestor.

Glorfindel smiled and stood up. "Do you want to go to the confectionary? I will not even make you listen to me count arrows first." 

Erestor beamed and got to his feet. There was lightness to his step and he clung to Glorfindel's arm as they disappeared out of the room.

"So, he still clings," noted Pippin.

"He is a clinger," agreed Elrond with a smile.

A smirk appeared on Pippin's face, and he nudged Merry. "I just realized what he meant about havin' a "sweet tooth' for the other one." Meriadoc grinned in spite of himself.

"Alright, none of that talk," scolded Lindir as he plucked a few chords on his harp. "You can all talk about what you think that means when I have retired for the night. Who would like to hear another song?" 

There was some clapping, and Lindir began another tune. Arwen waited until the focus was on the minstrel before she leaned to her father and said, "I thought that the confectionary closed a few centuries ago." 

"It did," he said quietly back to her, "but I am sure that Glorfindel can take care of my little advisor's need for sweets in some other way." 

*~*The End*~*


End file.
